Different Sides
by TrulyMadHatter
Summary: Dumbledore remembers Grindelwald.


**A/N **** This is a Oneshot about Dumbledore's mixed up feelings about his first love, Gellert Grindelwald. Of course, this is the way **_**I**_** see it, so it may be different to what you think, but it's been in my mind a while now, so I felt the time was right to release it. It's set a little bit before his death, so obviously, Voldemort isn't dead yet.**

**Disclaimer**** Nope, I am not J.. I am simply a Harry Potter lover who decided to write fanfiction based on her magical world. See? I admitted it!**

There was never anyone else as special as Gellert.

There never would be. How could there be, when he'd been such a spectacular individual? No, Albus needed someone with fire, someone whose thirst for knowledge, and yes, power if he was honest with his teenage self, exceeded his. His last year at Hogwarts (as a student) had left him unhappy and unfulfilled. He wasn't cut out to stay at home, where he couldn't learn.

Gellert had been a wonderful outlet for his repressed anger, and his teenage feelings. He'd taken him to amazing places just by talking, and it was easy to overlook the fact that he was a bit too bloodthirsty when he spoke. He was a persuasive person, and so, so beautiful. To his teenage self, at least.

He'd been one in a million.

That was why it had taken so long to defeat him. It was never that he was afraid of what Gellert would do to him, oh no. It'd been about the fact that he could kill him; how could he live with the knowledge that he'd murdered the only man to best him. The only man he'd ever… No, he couldn't say it.

And of course, there had been the question of his beloved sister, Ariana. He couldn't handle the idea that it had been he, the one person who should've protected her, who had killed her. That was the one thing he could never forgive Gellert for, the one thing that soured the memories of their impassioned debates, or their stolen moments together.

Even after he became the evil wizard he'd always threatened to be, Albus could never think of him as just Grindelwald-their relationship was too complicated, and there was far more to it than that.

Had it been infatuation? It had been so long ago that the memories had blurred, and nostalgia had taken over. It was indistinct. Whatever it had been, there was no denying his feelings had been strong. But Gellert had been the only man who could level with Albus, who was as clever, as powerful magically. Adding to that Gellert's thirst for power, well, it was a combination bound to ignite something in Albus.

Even now, hearing _his_ name sent a jolt through him, the half-remembered feelings flooding through him, as once again, Gellert's irrepressible personality wound its way through him. He had to admit he, the brilliant Dumbledore, had been stupid. He'd ignored the danger signs, got caught in those mad, brilliant ideas. He hadn't questioned Gellerts ideals, just gone along with the pretty words he spun. Indeed, he reflected, in one way you could say Gellert had dragged him in, spun him in like a spider with a particularly juicy fly. Though, that analogy implied Gellert was ugly. He wasn't . He'd been a very handsome boy, at least in his mind he had. He chose to remember him as the uncorrupted, idealistic youth, not the power crazed maniac. Power crazed maniac was probably the better title, really…

Overanalysing was pointless-he'd just come round in circles. Better to accept the good and the bad. It was a good reminder; never trust a pretty face. Look how Tom Riddle had turned out-he'd been more handsome than Gellert, and more evil. And Albus had known his true nature from the beginning.

Strange, how even after his first brush with love had ended in failure, he was the biggest advocate of love around. But it was _because_ of his failure that he wanted others to love, to be happy as he never could be, trapped in an endless spiral of guilt, duty, love and responsibility.

Peculiar, wasn't it, that Dumbledore, the wizard famed for being the person good at everything, had never been able to love properly. He never told anyone this though. The very idea! People would never understand his fascination with one of his greatest nemeses, and what's more, they didn't think of him as a being with feelings like…this.

He could say that his obsession with the Hallows had taught him one thing: that he could not be trusted with power. This was the reason he'd been content to stay the Headmaster of Hogwarts, beloved, able to teach children the one thing he'd never been taught, the thing he'd had to learn by himself: moderation. He wanted to create a better world, he always had done. It was just that his first attempt had been entirely ego-centric.

Regrets… He had so many, so many different things he wished he'd done, and others he wished he hadn't. He was not an omnipotent, omniscient being, neither was he all loving. He had many flaws, and consequently, his mistakes seemed to be bigger than others. Look at what had become of Harry's parents, Sirius, Ariana, the list was endless. And there were horrors to still to come-there was much he still had to inflict on Harry, that poor, much-abused boy. He was guilty about that, but it had to be done-Voldemort needed to be stopped, and because of a prophecy Riddle had foolishly believed, Harry happened to be the only boy to do that.

Gellert was one of his mistakes, but he was a wonderful one, one that in his heart of hearts he couldn't count as something to regret. He'd come right at the time he needed him, like a fallen angel, whispering the Devil's bidding in his ears. Not that he believed in the Muggle Christian ideas of Heaven and Hell. But it was a good metaphor.

Remembering back to those moments, times when he had an idea that Gellert simply must hear, or when they laid plans for their new world, or when all he was doing was sitting in Gellerts presence. He'd been happy, naïve and young. He had to remind himself of that, after all he had been very young. Most teenagers had their periods of naiveté, his had just been rather misjudged and grandiose. That was Gellert Grindelwald for you though; misjudged and grandiose to the end.

He was very glad that Gellert had never given Riddle the Elder wand; that would have been something he'd of hated Gellert for. And it had been reassuring to hear that Gellert had repented during those years where he'd been walled up in prison. It was good to know that he, Albus, getting Grindelwald thrown into prison had caused him to rethink the horror he'd caused. Albus cringed to hear some of the things Grindelwald had done.

Gellert Grindelwald. A name that provoked many things inside of Albus, but what was the biggest feeling? Was it…love? He would most likely never know. It was fine just to see him as the golden boy, the mischievous delinquent who'd lit him on fire. Without Grindelwald, he'd probably never have been on a Chocolate Frog card. Well, yes, there'd been the discovery of the twelve uses of dragons' blood, and his interest in alchemy, but a duel with an evil wizard made him sound more special. That would be how he would remember Gellert: the man who made him amazing.

If he could only see him one more time… But, alas, it was never going to happen. They moved in two very different circles. And, well, could he ever look at him without feeling the whirlwind of emotions that confused and disorientated his memories? No. It was better to leave the wound undisturbed.

Still, as he waited for Snapes merciful curse of death, Gellerts name was the last thing he thought of…

**A/N**** So, what d'you think? Yes, it's a bit odd, but isn't Dumbledore a strange person? ****  
**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


End file.
